


Sigma Bro vs Mr Incredible

by MindTwister



Category: Incredibles (Pixar Movies)
Genre: Gay, Hypnotism, M/M, Mind Control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 19:15:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16435250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MindTwister/pseuds/MindTwister
Summary: Mr Incredible goes up against an insane frat bro, unaware of the bro's strange ability to manipulate men into becoming frat bros just like him, frat bros who like to show off their junk, but they're totally straight bro.





	Sigma Bro vs Mr Incredible

Sigma Bro vs Mr Incredible

Written by: MindTwister

It was one of the most disgusting days of Mr. Incredible’s superhero career. Since his return to action, he’d fought a superfan turned supervillain, evil supermodels with cleavage hardly held inside of their outfits (not the worst day of his life) and a basketball team of young werewolves—which all were as weird as this was, but on levels he had experience and comfort with. Being a superhero, one adapted to dealing with society’s outcasts.

What he hadn’t learned to deal with was the overwhelming  _ odor _ of sweaty, barely-clothed men swarming him. But it wasn’t just a sweaty smell—it was more reminiscent of a wrestling team’s dirty jockstrap bin, mixed with cheap booze and a trucker’s bathroom, with more than a hint of masturbation. In other words, “masculine” in all the wrong ways. “You ever hear of deodorant, pal?!” He swatted aside several of the grunts with one hand, using the other to cover his nose as he went.

This wasn’t their fault though, so he couldn’t wallop them with the regular impunity; the men were victims here, despite being responsible for the recent crime wave. Brainwashed, or transformed somehow. They’d all have to go through therapy, even without bruises or broken bones. One day they’d all been regular middle-aged men, and the next they were all scampering around in nothing but jockstraps and jerseys, chanting about how “nerds” should be tortured and that football was the best sport.

It hadn’t been hard to track down where the group had gone following their brief rampage, due to many reports of half-naked men running around giving nerds uber wedgies. The problem was, “nerds” was any guy that got in their way and wasn’t exactly like them, and anyone their age who did get in their way, they  _ made _ like them. Somehow. 

His family was off doing their own projects, his wife off with some other lady heroes on something big, and his kids all in school, so it was up to him to figure out this mess. Frozone was on his way, but he was across the city and it would take him another two hours to get there. He planned on getting this figured out ASAP. 

After making his way through the hordes of sweaty goons, Mr. Incredible came upon the fraternity building of an abandoned campus, which had been converted into a villain’s lair. Whatever the name of the place had been, it was spray-painted over with “SIGMA SWEATY BROS.” Also, he only noticed it upon approaching the front entrance, but the whole outside of the building was stained with—fluids.

Mr. Incredible made his way into the frat, and he nearly gagged as the surrounding stench to hit him. It was a much more concentrated version of the same smell he’d been dealing with this whole time, but now, even holding his nose didn’t stop it. Worse yet, he could feel it seeping into his super-suit, and the thing wasn’t easy to clean. If he stayed too long, he’d smell just like the rest of them for weeks.

It wasn’t as bad inside as he expected, but it was still a pigsty. It seemed normal, if not fulfilling every stereotype for the rambunctious frat house: a communal area with a huge TV and couch, a kitchen piled high with dishes, sports memorabilia everywhere, and loads of empty beer containers. Just as Mr. Incredible was getting used to the situation (and the smell), he stepped in a wet spot that had blended in the dark carpet. “Please be beer,” he said, closing his eyes.

“Welcome to my lair, brah!” Mr. Incredible turned to meet the booming voice. Standing at the top of the stairs to the next floor was a fat, sweaty guy, much like the rest, but this one was wearing a football helmet with a poorly-drawn sigma symbol.

“This... Is the worst thing I’ve seen in a long time. Congratulations. Now who do I have the honor of beating and meeting?” Mr. Incredible said, getting in a combat stance.

“I’m Sigma Bro! AKA, Ron Mcfigg, ex-marine, bro!” Sigma Bro announced. He grinned wide, expecting a response, but Mr. Incredible only raised an eyebrow. The hero was a bit too shocked seeing a marine like this, but he hardened himself as he continued to glare. “I was a real normal bro myself up until a week ago. Ya see, I drank an irradiated beer.” The villain walked down the steps to the first floor of the frat house as he spoke. “I was just poppin’ open a few cold ones, reminiscing about them good ol’ days, and watching football—then  _ BAM! _ ” He clapped his hands together for emphasis.

“You’re insane,” Mr. Incredible replied. “And you need help! Give up quietly and let these men go!” He’d heard a few odd stories—but irradiated beer? Seriously?

Sigma Bro hardly seemed bothered by the confrontation as he continued to grin and played with his tented jockstrap. “Brah, nah, with these new powers, I can do anything I want! The marines were boring! My life was  _ boring! _ This way cooler.” Now that he was closer, Mr. Incredible could see Sigma Bro’s eyes under the helmet, and they looked perfectly maniacal. “I can mess with all the nerds I want, and I can show all the other men our age how to live life! Ya know?” 

That jockish tone, combined with the baritone voice of a 40-year-old man, really made Mr. Incredible want to punch this guy’s lights out already.

Without another word Mr. Incredible gave a giant leap, carrying himself across the room as he prepared to get this over with. Sigma Bro managed to dodge out of his way—it was a near miss, but Bob hadn’t expected the drunkard to move so fast—so instead he was hit with a wave of Sigma Bro’s rank odor.

He hit the wall, fist lodged in the wood, and got caught in the raunchy smell. Reeling, Mr. Incredible coughed and spat while Sigma Bro chuckled. “Brah, ya gotta calm down, ya know you’re gettin’ older. Us men gotta stick together. No homo.” 

Mr. Incredible scowled at him. He yanked his fist out of the wall, and he noticed he was sweating like an oven-baked pig. It didn’t feel like the room was getting warmer, it was like he’d ran a marathon. His spandex was sticking to every crevice of his body, and giant dark stains were under both of his arms. Now his musk was adding to the room’s overall smell. “I’m not getting old, I’m a superhero!” He shouted, trying to seize control of the situation.

Sigma Bro tilted his head. “Dunno brah, you look like you’re rockin’ that bald spot.”

Instinctually, his hand grabbed the top of his head, and sure enough, Mr. Incredible had a nice bald patch through his blonde hair. “Why, you—” 

Red-faced, he prepared another lunge towards Sigma Bro, but he was surprised as a pair of especially burly goons rammed into him. Caught off-guard, he tripped on a passed-out henchman while the two big ones guffawed. They piled onto him before he could jump up, and when they had him down, they started dangling spit above his face like second graders would.

“Gah! Get off me!” He roared and struggled, trying not to get their spit dribbling on his face. The pair were shockingly heavy together—they weren’t so heavy he couldn’t get them off, but he was pinned in a way that made it harder than he’d like. 

Sigma Bro took that moment to walk over him, jockstrap practically dripping its rank essence. “You’re being such a prude, man! I know you’re all super and shit, but think about how weird those nerds are! Don’t ya think they deserve a good wedgie or two?” He popped open a beer and chugged it, but didn’t finish. Instead, about halfway through, he snorted and spat inside of the bottle.

“Man, you just gotta chiilllll out, like me and my bros—look at how much happier they all are!” To emphasize the point, Sigma Bro lifted a leg and farted like a trumpet, with his ass placed right near one of their faces. Mr. Incredible was repulsed, but the two brainwashed grunts took a big whiff of the air and laughed like wild monkeys, hooting and hollering and jerking their fat jockstrapped dicks. 

Sigma Bro squatted down so he could look at the superhero closer. “See? Man, you’re missing out! I feel bad for ya, brah.” He held up his bottle of spit-laden beer.

Mr. Incredible realized he hadn’t been struggling this entire time. 

“So ya know what? I’m gonna be a real cool dude and share my drink with ya!” Before he could get out of the way, Sigma Bro poured the tainted beer onto his face, trying to get it in his mouth while he coughed and spat.

It was cheap, bad beer that tasted like piss, and somehow even worse with the taste of spit. “Agh—kgh, God—geez—get  _ off _ !” Finally, he threw the two brutes off him to go flying across the room. Sigma Bro stepped back as Mr. Incredible wobbled to his feet, keenly aware that his costume was now stained with a grunge and sweat from the two nutjobs, and stinking of the cheap beer. His face was drenched in dirty beer and sweat, and the spandex ensured his body stank from the sweat trapped against his body. He looked as filthy as any other man on this campus.

He tried to wipe the beer out of his face, but it was stinging his eyes, and his mouth was awash with the flavor.

While Mr. Incredible was distracted, Sigma Bro came up beside him and wrapped his arm around Bob’s neck, using his own muscle to drag the hero toward his armpit. “There ya go! Now that’cha got some good shit in your belly, you’ll listen to reason! We’re all frat guys here, right?” Mr. Incredible couldn’t help but get a full-on whiff of the supervillain’s pit musk—he almost gagged at how awful it, like the guy hadn’t showered in weeks. 

So why was he so hard?

The thought shocked him. He looked down and blearily saw his cock stretching proudly through his suit. “W-what the... What are you doing to me?!” He pulled away with an effort, coughing and groaning as he felt his head pounding, a monumental headache coming through. The feeling of pressure inside of his skull was familiar. Every super had to deal with it eventually: mind control. He’d been the victim a few times, and he knew it was on the verge of it happening again. The headache came from his own resistances to the mental breakdown.

If he stopped resisting, it would stop hurting. “What are you… What did you do…”

Sigma Bro looked bored though, slurping down a fresh beer and finishing it with a belch. “Brah, I just shared the love with them! No homo. They just needed to get in touch with their wild side. All of them have been so out of the game, they don’t remember what it’s like. With my powers, I can get ya all on board!” He walked towards Mr. Incredible, who suddenly felt very weak. “No more hard thinking, no more crunching stupid numbers or solving problems, all ya gotta do is pick on nerds and fool with their bros! No homo, bro.”

“Shove your ‘No homo’ crap! I’m...” A wave of dizziness overcame him, cutting off his thoughts. His dick throbbed in his pants once more—in his mind, a foreign image of himself picked on some dumb nerds from high school. “I’m… Uh…” Wedgies. Swirlies. Taking money. Using super-strength to make them snort his pits. He was a stupid bully even into college, making sure the geeks knew the pecking order.

He grinned crookedly, but a pang in his head snapped him out of it. “Mmm…” His silly grin turned into a frown, and he shook himself vigorously. “Nrgh...  _ No! _ Get out of my head, you—maniac!” Mr. Incredible shouted and rushed the villain, this time making contact. 

He slammed Sigma Bro to the ground, and his hands practically squeaked as it contacted the man’s greasy skin. The smell of the man hit him anew, being so close, and his eyes glazed over as he inadvertently snorted some of Sigma Bro’s raunchy odors. He took a few hesitant whiffs as the pain in his skull ebbed away; his dick pulsing in his suit as Sigma Bro moaned.

Memories of college, wearing football gear, hanging out with his bros, bumping chests, downing beer like drowning men—Mr. Incredi—Bob, his name was Bob—shuddered as the false memories flooded in. 

Football, smelly jockstraps, postponing bathing for weeks to see who could get the strongest stink, burping contests, atomic wedgies, shoving guys in lockers, TPing the professor’s house, a distaste for nerds and geeks of any kind—growing in his head like a tumor. 

He humped up against Sigma Bro’s erection, the villain in the grungy jockstrap and hero in his suit, a little drool escaping the side of Bob’s mouth. He had Sigma Bro pinned, but with the strength draining out of his body and into his cock, it was more like he was laying on top of him—pressing their bodies together, no homo… 

“There ya go, bro, gettin’ back in the rhythm!” Sigma Bro reached one hand up to stroke Bob’s blonde hair, matting it with greasy fingers. “I bet you’re feeling’ a whole lot better now not that you’re not thinking’ like a freakin’ hero! Head hurts a lot, bro, when you’re trying to keep all that goody-goody shit up!”

A small smile appeared on Bob’s face as he nodded, the smell of Sigma Bro’s breath as intoxicating as the words themselves. It was too hard being a hero; always paying attention to the little people, making sure you don’t hurt them. It also came with a bunch of bills, having to pay off big damages to the city, dealing with all the stupid reporters—they were nerds too. Anyone who wasn’t a bro was a stupid dweeb who needed to be taught a lesson. 

Or a bro who just needed to get in on the good life. “Wait...” he murmured. That thought made him stop. Bob shook his head slowly, the glassy look in his eyes clearing and the smile disappearing. He was Mr. Incredible, he was a  _ hero _ , and he needed to live up to that standard.

Without warning Sigma Bro shoved Bob off, and he fell back to hit the floor with an echoing thump. Bob groaned. He was total dead weight, arms spread helplessly, and caught in a mental fog. He stared up at the ceiling, and he hardly seemed to notice the rough change in position, let alone fight back. “Gugh…?” The erection in his supersuit bulged upwards, pointing directly at Sigma Bro.

The villain reached down between his legs, as if to scratch his backside, but instead he pulled out a jockstrap that had been flossed between his smelly buttcrack. He kept it there since he saw Mr. Incredible coming, and he slapped it onto Bob’s face with a giggly leer. 

Bob’s eyes widened in shock, but immediately dulled into a half-lidded stare. His mouth hung open as a loony grin took over, and without being told, started absently slurping over the rancid material. 

It tasted mostly like sweaty ass, but also had cum, beer, and even piss flavorings. 

He loved it. Tasted like his master-bro. “There ya go, suck on that, bro! It’ll help clear those hard thoughts away…” Sigma Bro spoke, trying to stuff the dirty underwear into Bob’s drool-caked mouth. 

His eyes were spiraling now, and he really started suckling the jockstrap to get the taste in his system. He looked like a happy cow chewing cud. “You’re so stuck up on your hero pedestal, but once you’re in the frat there ain’t no need for that! I mean, look how hard you are.” Sigma Bro continued speaking and grabbed Bob’s dick through the suit, and gave it a few gropes and pumps. “You’re a stud. No homo.”

“No homo...” Bob replied, muffled. His eyes were completely glazed and swirling now as he humped his bro’s hand through the sweaty supersuit. The stupid suit was so tight, just like stupid hero types, always getting on his case—now being a jock, that was easy—being a frat bro, fooling around with his bros all the time, pranking any wimpy nerds, doing anything Sigma Bro said, now that sounded easy! He pulled the jockstrap out of his mouth and snorted it, loving the rancid flavor, the sweatiness, that manly scent of another bro!

Sigma Bro rubbed over Bob’s muscled frame before standing up, towering over the hypnotized hero. “Relax, bro. Keep laying on the ground, and lemme help ya out…” Bob didn’t have to be ordered twice. He laid back without a question, pulling the jockstrap from his face, and was now busy humping it. He stared up at Sigma Bro with unfiltered lust. God, the thought of plowing a dirty butt like that... No homo...

Sigma Bro turned around, showing off that butt Bob was admiring. Then he bent down and lowered his sweaty rump over Bob’s face. The villain’s jockstrap didn’t cover any part of that enormous crack, taint and hole, a whole lot of taint, the disgusting greasy taint of another man, dripping with sweat and making Bob’s eyes roll up into his head. It didn’t matter, because with Sigma Bro sitting on his face, he couldn’t see anyway.

Total darkness, with nothing but the humiliating control, the noxious odor and taste of dirty man-butt, digging into Bob’s nose. Both men moaned, as Sigma Bro was kind enough to jerk off his bro while he suffocated him in his greasy crack.

A small part of Bob still fought, deep inside. Mr. Incredible could still win if he resisted, but his mindscape was being turned into a disgusting frathouse that was entirely tainted with obedience towards the supervillain. Mr. Incredible was fighting with everything he had, beating back the mind control and false memories. 

He persisted, even as he forgot what he was fighting against, only knowing he desperately needed to. New memories, depraved fetishes, manly hobbies, a bully’s personality, sports, bros, beer—attacking Mr. Incredible, who was only barely holding it back from permanently altering his very being—destroying his superhero career, ruining his life, changing him forever—it would be forever, he’d be a bro forever if he didn’t stop—

And then, Sigma Bro grunted, blasting a musky fart right into the other man’s face. “Mmmyeah, why don’t you help a bro out, huh? I bet it’ll feel great to help clean another bro’s buttcrack clean, no homo.”

The fight grew more rabid with Bob trying to keep his sanity, his headache growing worse and worse, trying to stay the good hero—Mr. Incredible was fighting, screaming—and then the wall of stink hit him.

He broke. The Mr. Incredible inside his head took one sniff of the fart, and he was wearing a jersey and jockstrap, raving about football and his favorite bro. Just like every other stupid goon.

Bob spasmed as he came inside of his hero’s uniform, all heroic thoughts gone, his IQ tanking as he grinned wide. “Sure bro!” he snorted like a horny pig and started to rim the other man, all the while thinking how straight it was to help a bro—if their balls didn’t touch, no homo! Sigma Bro was the best of his bros, so he’d do anything for him… Anything!

 

 

It was getting to be nighttime when Frozone came, and he was horrified. 

Bob was standing around outside the villain’s lair—he couldn’t believe it was him, but they’d been friends for years. Despite the drastic change in look, Frozone knew he wasn’t mistaken. Though he wanted to be.

Gone was Bob’s Mr. Incredible suit: now he was wearing a jersey with a Sigma symbol on the front, his hair was a disheveled mess, his skin was so greasy it shined in the light, he was drooling and stumbling, smelling like an overweight gym coach’s unwashed ass, and his cock was sticking out in a very wet jock. When Frozone came on the scene, his closest friend of over twenty years was too busy staring at nothing on a wall, jerking off his slimy cock, to notice him. He was staring at a wall like a braindead horse. Jerking off. Staring at nothing, facing the wall.

Frozone was silent, not wanting to believe what he was seeing. It was only when the man held up one of his arms and sniffed the blonde forest of hair in his armpit, and hearing the voice letting out a drunken moan, that he was positive.

“What in... The… Bob?!  _ Bob! _ ” he shouted.

The man slowly turned to face him. His eyes were completely blank, and he smiled dopily as he let out a long belch. “Lucius, bruh, ya gotta chill out… Heheh, get it? ‘cause ya freeze shit?” 

It was worse up close than from a distance. They had met up this morning, but somehow, Bob had packed on the pounds. He was always a big guy, but never fat—now he was rubbing an enormous beer gut. He must’ve been 100, if not 150 pounds fatter, and much hairier—Bob was never able to grow much body hair, but now he looked like a total bear. And the clean-shaven face (Bob hated facial hair, he said it was too itchy) was already sporting a strong five o’ clock shadow. He hadn’t grown a beard yet, but it was obvious that shaving was a forgotten concept.

Frozone met Bob’s eyes with newfound horror, only for the once-hero to grin cheekily and let loose a sputtering fart. “Phew!” He slapped his big belly. “That was a good one, bruh! Nothin’ like releasin’ the pressure, amirite?” Before Frozone could respond, Bob shushed him and bent over, straining—and blasted an even bigger one out, long and windy like a deflating pool toy. 

The orgasmic bliss on Bob’s face was the last straw. Frozone prepared to attack, and subdue his stupefied partner—but Bob shocked him with a sudden strike to the face, showing off his incredible speed. 

Before the hero could get up, Bob grabbed him and locked his legs around his head—and started to smear his face into the jockstrap he was wearing, humping nice and slow, getting all the juices and smell he could. He expected an immediate counterattack, but Frozone’s writhing slowed to nothing. “Oh-ho, seems we have an eager bro,” Bob said.

Lucius whimpered. He was straight, he had a wife, but his powers wouldn’t turn on, his body wouldn’t fight back—his nose was inhaling a fog, and his mind was sinking in it—he moaned gutturally, his eyes glazing, staring upwards to look at his friend—to ask for help, to stop—but Bob just sneered. “That’s right bro, just breathe deep.” 

Lucius felt himself falling, drifting into something like sleep, and he felt a boner growing in his supersuit as he relaxed. He breathed deep… His eyes fluttered…

Bob grinned. “Sigma Bro’s gonna talk with ya... Just like me.”

Hearing that put a vacant smile on Lucius’s face as he fell asleep.


End file.
